The Games of the Capitol
by TheHypers
Summary: It's time for the 76th Hunger Games and due to the new power of the Districts, 24 children from the Capitol must compete and fight to the death in the final arena. Rose Snow, granddaughter of the famed President Snow is one of the children to be chosen and she sees this as a discrete execution. And it may as well be.
1. Chapter 1 Call to All

Prometheus, son of one of the most important capitol officials, was currently at the dinner table, about to break the bad news to his family that he currently clutched in his hand, in the form of a precarious red letter, swathed with an abundance of sickening, rose perfume.

"Come on, sit down." His twin sister, Proppy told him, her gray eyes on her food, completely oblivious to the dark cloud on the horizon that was steadily approaching.

Prometheus hesitantly sidled up to the table and sat down beside his sister, trying no to glance down at the envelope on his hand.

Proppy flicked her auburn hair out of her eyes and glared at her brother, "What?" She snapped, suddenly irritated, "I know you're hiding something, spit it out!" She shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth without taking her eyes off her twin.

He sighed and placed the red envelope on the table and their mother, a hunched over middle-aged woman drew in a gasp of shock.

"What's that?" Proppy questioned curiously, her annoyance gone as quickly as it had come, "We barely ever get mail!"

Disbelievingly, their mother shook her head, "It can't be possible..." She murmured, "It just can't be..."

"What?"

The dark cloud approached quicker and quicker. Suddenly it was above their house and the area around them. It started to rain. Proppy looked at the letter, she only had to read:

_Dear the Swain family,_

_I'm sorry to say that your son/grandson/brother got chosen to enter the 79th Hunger Games. May the odds be _ever_ in your favour._

"W-what did you do?" Proppy asked.

"Nothing." Prometheus said, eager to change the subject. "I thought the Hunger Games were for the District people _not_ the Capitol people."

"Well," Proppy began, "What if the District's wanted revenge? What if they wanted Capitol people to die? Even though it _was_ President Snow who was evil not _us_!"

Prometheus stood still for a long time, his dark brown eyes staring off into the distance, like a pitiless hourglass, slowly spirally away. Finally he got up and said, "Well I guess each and every individual tribute wasn't responsible for the rebellion either...", in a low voice, and letting it hang. For a moment there was only silence, and the gentle pattering of rain - so peaceful on such a day like this.

And then Proppy burst into tears.

* * *

I stand in the beautiful garden, observing the thorny tendrils of the plant I was named after snaking through the dark shade of the bushes and the frilly white flower heads blooming from between the leaves. Fresh raindrops roll off each of the bushes' leaves and splatter on the grass underfoot, staining my new shoes with mud.

I remember that my grandfather often took me to this garden when I was younger. He'd sit me down on the grass and sing to me an old lullaby that's been passed down through the Snow family for generations.

_Nighttime, nighttime,  
Little roses grow.  
Pale in the moonlight,  
White roses glow._

_Nighttime, nighttime,  
Lay down your sleepy head.  
Roses grow to the sky,  
White roses turn red._

Ever since the rebellion ended, the now victorious Districts hate me because of who my grandfather was. That's hardly fair, really. What did I do. He was just carrying on the tradition of the Hunger Games, he didn't create them.

I walked through the house, and headed to my bedroom. Ready to caress the soft silky sheets that were my duvet, and rest in the soft friendly world within, away from all the current issues of Panem.

On the way I see a small white note, my heart beats fast and I feel my breath stick in my throat. When it unfolds, I feel the breath refuse to make it's way out, and I gasp in shock at it.

_Dear Rose Snow, _

_We regret to inform you, that you, out of many fortunate children, are to compete in the tradition of the Hunger Games. Failure to attend the Mock Reaping will result in harsh penalties, and possibly death. May the odds be ever in your favour. _

_Regards, _

_The Districts and President Paylor_

I shouldn't be surprised, really. I _am_ after all, the granddaughter of the former president, but do they really think that this is going to solve something? It won't change the fact that _they_ started the first Rebellion and forced us to keep them in line with the Hunger Games.

I crush the note in my fist and throw it into the wastepaper basket. I won't give them the satisfaction of giving them the chance to bury me in penalties. I am, after all, the granddaughter of President Snow. I will stay strong though all of this.

At least, that's what I plan.


	2. Chapter 2 Mock Reaping

I stood near the sides of the stage. I saw crowds of people staring at where we (I mean the Tributes) stood. "I hate this," I murmured to my friend Kuku. Kuku was also 'Reaped.' I mean, we only got sent a letter.

"Yeah," he whispered back, "I wonder what District I'd be representing. If I'm picked, I mean."

I smiled, "Bet I'd be District 1!" Better a Career District than a common one.

Kuku didn't reply, instead he just gazed troubled ahead and ran a hand through his slick black hair. He's a bit of a giant in height, surprisingly enough not getting any height reductions during his teen years, these appearance altering operations were common place in the capitol, and most Capitolians get at least three in their lifetime. Usually Kuku's hair is spiked up in a question mark at the tip of his head, however today, the slick of black hair hangs limp and unstyled, making a twinge of uncomfortableness arising within me. What could be happening to worry everyone to the extent that they forget their make-up or hairstyle? Which is a big thing in the capitol, so any disturbance to that is surely a major one. Once again, the importance of the situation, and the districts complexity in their revenge dawns on me.

Exhale. Inhale. Exhale Breathe.

Please go alright.

Before I could indulge in any more pleasurable or distracting thoughts, a huge thundering crack of static echoed through the stadium, where a thousand tiny lights blazed into place, and really accentuated the small, space on stage. A moment of silence passed, before a huge, gigantic array of moving clothing trailed on stage. My heart beat. Was that meant to be us? Soon it turned out, the array of clothing, hats, socks, gloves, big pompous bowties and ribbons all glazed in a thick balloon-like structure of bright pink fabric had arms and legs, and a face too - so intensely decorated you could barely make it out until the lips started moving in the swathe of pink. Disgust swirled inside my stomach, drawing the sensation of pins dancing in my gut, and a thousand tiny prickles crawling up and down my back and my hands started sweating at the monstrosity on stage. It separated an arm from its clothing, reached out for the microphone, and grasped it in its crinkly, pink filled fingers, before saying in an artificially sweet voice, "Welcome, welcome. To the mock Reaping of the seventy sixth Hunger - oops," what appeared to be lips crinkled up as fake laughter filled the stadium, penetrating the ears and permanently entangling itself in the backs of my brain, _ahahahha_, "Capitol Games! The first tribute for District One is..."

Could this be mocking us? I thought, looking closely at the announcer. Suddenly a thousand thoughts started flowing to the surface, and attacking my mind like the way knitting needles could attack a lumpy piece of gum to shreds; a piece of gum that's sick of being chewed on and don't know how much more it could take. The questions never seem to stop pounding.

_Is she a representation of us? _

_How did they do her make-up and clothes like that? _

_Are we really that horrible in the eyes of the districts? _

_Is this another form of revenge? _

_How much worse could it get? _

"Kanashii Yoru!" The woman on the stage screeches, causing many people to cringe and cover their ears at the terrible imitation of our accent. I glance sympathetically as a thirteen year old girl makes her way up onto the stage. Although she appears confident, I can see panic sparking in her eyes even from where I'm standing. I'd seen Kanashii a few times at many of my grandfather's extravagant dinner parties and to tell the truth, I don't think that I'll be missing her too much.

A big, fake grin is plastered across the mock-Capitol woman as her gaze rakes across the audience, "Any volunteers for Miss Yoru?" She asks, her voice a sickly sweet tone. No one dares to step up and take her place. I can tell that everyone's secretly glad that they're now slightly less likely to be picked and I hate myself for feeling relieved.

Only eleven more places left for the girls. I find myself thinking; _Now there's a smaller chance of me being picked._

The mock-Capitol woman skips over to the second bowl, "Now for the boy representing District One!" She shouts gleefully, "How exciting!" Her enthusiasm makes me want to be sick as she plunges her hand into the bowl and pulls out a name from deep inside. She unfolds it, stares down at it and a smirk crosses her face, distorting her makeup as she leaves us hanging in the tension. At last, she reads it out loud. "Mars Antony!"

That idiot? Again, no one volunteers. Another child that no one will miss.

I stand patiently. More names are called, but none are mine.

A couple of them stand out in my head, like 'Athena Von Trapp' – wasn't Athena the name of a Greek wisdom goddess? Hugh Blight stands out too, and then comes Estralian Mailen, and as the freaky lady raises her lips, the sound 'Kuku Phoreva' greets my ears, the name drawn out in her hideous voice. Kuku gasps beside me, his slick black needle shaped string of hair at the top of his head doing a little jump as the owner of the head gasped, before flopping back down over his eyes. He reached up to swat it away, and headed on stage mouth wide open in shock. I try to clutch onto him, but the 'capitol' officials pull him away. 'Franchescia Noob' gets called out several names later, then comes Byron Matryoshka for District 12, and just as the prickle of worry starts to crawl off my shoulders, and leaves me in peace, I hear my name being called.

The two words, "Rose Snow" echo around the Capitol Square as all eyes turn to me. Just when I thought that I was as safe as possible in this place, I have been called to compete. Maybe that's what they want, to crush my hope just when I get a glimmer of it.

Slowly, I stumble toward the stage. The children of the Capitol move aside to create a path for me as I trip on the stars as I climb up onto the raised platform. I can barely think of anything and I forget that this is all being recorded and on live television, broadcasted to every corner of the nation. All I can think of now is that I'm going to die in front of my people like a lowly, rebellious District person.

I glance over at Kuku, but he doesn't meet my eyes. I hope that we won't end up killing each other, but I don't want to kill anyone. I'm better than that.

It's unsure, even to me, how or why it happened, but somewhere, on the way to stage, the 'capitol' (district rebels pretending to be us) officials decided to get more entertainment out of me, and one of them sharply thumped the butt of their gun on me, spreading instant pain and humiliation as several feet found my back, and practically kicked me on stage. The last thought that entered my head as I stood up was; I'm Rose Snow. The capitol used to be my kingdom, and I used to be its princess. Now I'm stripped of dignity, humiliated and sentenced to death.

**AN: ****For future reference in case you get confused:**

**District 1-  
Boy: Mars Antony  
Girl: Kanashii Yoru  
District 2-  
Boy: William (Bill) Lawson  
Girl: Frostia Tinaton  
District 3-  
Boy: Richard (Dick) Head  
Girl: Madeline (Mad) Crosidbiatch  
District 4-  
Girl: Mint Leaf  
District 5-  
Boy: John Stevens  
Girl: Diana Lawson  
District 6-  
Boy: Prometheus Swain  
Girl: Proppy Swain  
District 7-  
Boy: Moranfro Sedva  
Girl: Athena Von Trapp  
District 8-  
Boy: Hugh Blight  
Girl: Estralian Mailen  
District 9-  
Boy: Kuku Phoreva  
Girl: Esia Pritchard  
District 10-  
Boy: Sifton Lyree  
Girl: Franchescia Noob  
District 11-  
Boy: Douglass Ackroyld  
Girl: Felix Delephanty  
District 12-  
Boy: Byron Matryoshka  
Girl: Rose Snow**

_**And because we haven't got much reviews so far: (only 1 review first chapter) **_

_**Roses are Red  
**__**Violets are Blue  
**__**We would appreciate it  
**__**If you Reviewed **__**  
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